Between 1530 and 1798, Malta, the southernmost tip of Catholic Europe, was home to the military-religious Order of St John (of Malta). This organization traced its origins to the years just before the beginning of the crusades in late eleventh-century Palestine. From Malta, the Order sought to keep up its dual mission of hospitality (hence the appellative of hospitallers) and fighting the infidel Muslim at sea. From 1592 to 1768 the Society of Jesus was present in this Catholic outpost from where it supported the mission of the Order and sought to remould hospitaller piety. The relationship between these two organizations had ramifications that spread beyond tiny Malta, both because of the issues that arose between them, as well as because of the international composition of the Order and the Society. The Carnival of 1639 proved to be a defining moment in this relationship; though generally passed over as a ‘temporary disturbance’ this article emphasizes that it was more than this by looking at the dynamics of the links between hospitallers, Jesuits, the Inquisition, and Carnival. This article is based on a wider range of sources than previous studies, which will help to bring out the nuances of the subject under investigation.

The Spanish Armada and the battle of Lepanto loom large in a remarkable period of international history shaped to a considerable extent by the deployment of sea power. Yet between 1581 and 1583, France also conducted a large-scale naval operation at great distance. A series of expeditions to the Azores reached a climax with the defeat in battle of a French fleet of sixty ships off the island of São Miguel in July 1582. Acting under the authority of Catherine de Medici and in the name of her rival legal claim to the Portuguese throne, the commander Philippe Strozzi had not only led the most ambitious oceanic operation in French history up to that date and a bid to extend France's overseas empire but a serious challenge to Philip II's union of the Iberian crowns. Yet this was more than just a puzzling anomaly in France's foreign policy. It was also an act of royal authority and the pursuit of reputation and status by the queen mother that was entirely consistent with the domestic priorities of the crown in the context of the Wars of Religion.

This article is a revised and expanded version of my inaugural lecture as Professor of Modern History at the University of Cambridge, delivered on 20 Oct. 2011. It explores how the religious upheavals of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries reshaped perceptions of the past, stimulated shifts in historical method, and transformed the culture of memory, before turning to the interrelated question of when and why contemporaries began to remember the English Reformation as a decisive juncture and critical turning point in history. Investigating the interaction between personal recollection and social memory, it traces the manner in which remembrance of the events of the 1530s, 1540s, and 1550s evolved and splintered between 1530 and 1700. A further theme is the role of religious and intellectual developments in the early modern period in forging prevailing models of historical periodization and teleological paradigms of interpretation.

Using records from 113 manors in Yorkshire and elsewhere, this article surveys the changing role of manor courts in English local government over three centuries. These institutions allowed juries of established tenants to deal cheaply and easily with a variety of chronic concerns, including crime, migration, retailing, common lands, and infrastructure. Their focus varied significantly according to region, topography, settlement size, and time period, but active courts existed in most parts of the country throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Ultimately, they had many valuable functions which historians have barely begun to explore. This article thus offers the most systematic analysis to date of the role of these institutions in making and enforcing by-laws in this period, showing that many of the courts evolved to suit the changing priorities of local tenants rather than falling rapidly into ruin as has sometimes been assumed.

Eighteenth-century architect-builders were a small group, but important for understanding the market strategies of knowledge-based experts in an age of rapid growth in technical information before the creation of modern professions. This article confronts a teleological historiography of emerging professionalization. It is focused on Robert Mylne and several of his contemporaries in Edinburgh and London, including a number of successful London-based Scots who were active as architects, builders, engineers, and surveyors, and self-styled in all these areas when it suited them. It supplies an account of what it took for building experts to establish themselves and flourish in big cities and the ways in which such experts navigated, controlled, and accommodated an environment of unregulated expertise that largely suited contemporary practitioners. Individual, family, and collective market strategies are examined in detail and the final section is a close analysis of the activities of the Architects Club in the 1790s.

This article explores the impulse behind the outpouring of extraordinarily ornate maps representing the inhabitants of Brazil that emanated from Normandy in the mid-sixteenth century. It aims to understand the reasons behind the iconography of Brazil, a region of particular commercial interest for the French. Whereas maps produced elsewhere in this period emphasize the presence of fierce cannibals in Brazil, Norman examples highlight peaceful relations, particularly the dyewood trade. By analysing the maps in comparison with extant maps from other centres of production (particularly Portugal and the German lands), travel accounts, and wider visual culture, this article explores their relationship to possible sources and considers the extent to which their iconography had a basis in experience. By investigating the use of these maps as gifts to French kings, it suggests that the mapmakers’ selective use of trading imagery also played a persuasive role in the Norman maritime world's disputes with the Portuguese crown over the extent of Portugal's Atlantic empire.

This article aims to extend our understanding of eighteenth-century political science through a re-examination of the writings of Jean-Louis Delolme (1741–1806). Beginning with an account of Delolme's conception of a modern ‘science of politics’, the article demonstrates that Delolme's ambition to rest the study of politics on scientific foundations developed in the context of an evolving concern with the stability and durability of the English ‘empire’. Underlining Delolme's critique of traditional republican political science as well as the comparative science of politics set out in Montesquieu's The spirit of the laws, the article thus sheds light on the connection between eighteenth-century conceptions of political science and eighteenth-century analyses of the English constitution and the British state. The article concludes with a brief discussion of the resonance of Delolme's central ideas in late eighteenth-century debates, in Britain, America, and France, about the character and properties of the modern constitutional republic.

Eighteenth-century convents are little studied, and women's third order houses even less so, despite the growing numbers of the latter. Through a case-study, this article explores the origins and functions of one eighteenth-century third order house in an Italian urban community. Relying on the rich meeting minutes of Santa Maria Egiziaca in Bologna, the article analyses the everyday realities and the changing perceptions of women's religious institutions among the urban elites connected to the house. Santa Maria Egiziaca emerges as neither only a convent nor a shelter, the two institutional types recognized in current scholarship, but rather as both. The diverse goals of the house's administrators and benefactors suggest why third order houses thrived in the eighteenth century when more traditional convents came under increasing criticism and declined.

In the 1850s, the Piedmontese ‘moderate’ liberals created a peculiar political culture, suited to the twofold task of strengthening representative institutions at home and justifying Piedmont's Italian mission. Inspired by both the whig tradition and the French Doctrinaires, the moderates elaborated arguments advocating elite government and countering democracy. Gioberti, Balbo, Carutti, Mamiani, and Boncompagni shared five theses: (1) natural (and/or divine) laws are both the ultimate source of right and wrong in politics and the guarantee of gradual progress; (2) only the citizens who understand the natural order should rule; (3) ‘democracy’, that is popular sovereignty and universal suffrage, is inherently wrong; (4) granted that citizens' attitudes play an important role in politics, certain virtues are required by representative government; and (5) moderatism was imbued with Burkeanism, meaning that it endorsed a realistic, prudent approach to politics, that much was made of Italian and especially Piedmontese history and traditions, and that mere constitutional machinery was to be disdained. This political culture led the moderates to portray everybody who was either on the right or the left of their camp, both in Piedmont and Italy, as a ‘sectarian’ and hence a dangerous revolutionary.

This article presents four manuscript essays from the mid-1750s, three of which are attributed to Edmund Burke for the first time. In doing so, the article aims to reconstruct Burke's earliest political thought during a period often described as the ‘missing years’ of his biography. These essays cover themes that would later occupy places of central importance in Burke's thinking, and so form a bridge between his early intellectual development and his subsequent political career. After presenting the grounds for ascribing these writings to Burke, the article then sketches their main lines of argument and situates them in their political context. It also briefly establishes their significance with reference to their enlightenment intellectual milieu. Covering such themes as the nature of party, the functioning of the mixed constitution, and the terms on which Ireland was subjected to the English crown, these early essays address a set of political and constitutional issues that were major areas of controversy in British politics in the second half of the eighteenth century.

The writing of ecclesiastical history is rarely disinterested, and this was especially so in eighteenth-century England. Its leading practitioner, John Jortin, wrote with a clear, determined, and dynamic purpose: to offer an effective critique of orthodoxy and its ally, persecution, and to secure civil and religious liberty in a way commensurate with maintaining an established church and liberal learning. His life and writings meditated on early eighteenth-century tendencies in thought and scholarship in a spirit that allowed often radical developments to take place. Unambiguously heterodox in tone and conclusions, Jortin's researches were drawn on by radical dissent. A scion of a Huguenot family, Jortin was a critical mediator between the culture of the Huguenot Refuge and English scholarship. He was a pioneer in the study of English literature, moving such study away from the narrowly philological methods of Richard Bentley towards more reflective literary scholarship. Above all, Jortin was determined that the Republic of Letters should be a Christian Republic; his contribution to and experience of Enlightenment substantiates J. G. A. Pocock's contention that, in England, it was largely clerical and conservative: study of Jortin in context challenges the hegemony of the Radical Enlightenment thesis that is rapidly becoming an interpretative orthodoxy.

This article analyses the records of 595 entrants to the English College, Rome, and 309 entrants to the English College, Valladolid. These Colleges, set up to train young English men as Catholic priests at a time when Catholicism was proscribed in England, required all entrants to complete questionnaires covering their social, educational, and religious background. The Responsa Scholarum are the autograph manuscripts of students at Rome; the Liber Primi Examinis consists of summaries of oral examinations written down by the interviewers. Through a combination of quantitative analysis and close reading of individual accounts, this article explores responses to the questionnaires, focusing on the engagement of young people with religion and religious identity. It argues that their self-writings shed important light on our understanding of both early modern religion and of early modern childhood and adolescence.

In the late eighteenth century, European merchants launched corporate insurance bodies in India and China. These new joint-stock companies followed London's mature and efficient institutional systems for marine insurance, and adopted their basis in the European law merchant. They operated alongside local risk transfer facilities, but in both countries were quickly embraced by native merchants, who participated both as customers and shareholders. The rapid development of a corporate insurance sector in India and China, fuelled by the capital of local merchants and members of the European colonial elite, underlines the effectiveness of premium-based marine insurance, while its swift adoption by both local and international merchants shows its importance to the development of trade and empire.

Case-studies of the circle of Samuel Hartlib, one of the most prolific groups of reformers in post-Reformation Europe, are flourishing. The uncovering of rich details has, however, made it difficult to draw a meaningful generalization about the circle's bewilderingly wide range of activities. Focusing on the circle's promotion of ‘useful knowledge’, this article offers an analytical framework for building a new synthesis. The eclectic and seemingly chaotic pursuit of useful knowledge emerged, it will be shown, as differing responses to, and interpretations of, pervasive distrust and the pursuit of reformation. The article thus explores how loosely-shared experience shaped the circle's ambivalent practices of collaboration and exclusion. The study thereby contributes not only to studies of the Hartlib circle, but also to the historiography of post-Reformation culture and burgeoning studies of trust and credibility in the history of science and technology.

The second earl of Shelburne is well known for his association with reform initiatives in the second half of the eighteenth century. However, he also put conspicuous effort into strengthening his aristocratic credentials and status. One noteworthy feature of this was his politeness: he aimed at personal cultivation, a goal in itself and a foundation for leadership in society; he also had a reputation for politeness in everyday social situations. One context for Shelburne's conspicuous politeness was his personal need to overcome a number of impediments to asserting aristocratic status. However, another context was his effort to articulate a vocation for the modern aristocrat. For Shelburne, polite sociability was a way for the aristocrat to gather, organize, and deploy creative energies in society for the sake of improvement and reform. Though a particular example, Shelburne illustrates the energy that asserting aristocratic status could demand and the sort of modernity that could be claimed on behalf of aristocracy. Finally, Shelburne demonstrates the role of politeness in aristocratic formation: in particular, he shows how aristocratic engagement in contemporary society entailed a range of social relations which polite competence helped to manage.

This article examines the controversy surrounding the sale of John Redmond's estate under the Wyndham Land Act of 1903, its impact on Redmond's political career, and divisions within Irish nationalism. As chairman of the Irish Parliamentary Party, Redmond automatically assumed the mantle of spokesman for nationalist tenant farmers. However, after inheriting his uncle's estate in 1902, his political responsibilities as a tenant representative and his personal position as a landlord were set on a collision course. Although now a landlord he chose to attend the 1902–3 Land Conference, whose report heavily influenced the Wyndham Act, as the chief tenant representative. After accepting an offer by some of his tenants to purchase their holdings just prior to the commencement of the new act, many nationalists felt that the terms were exorbitant and Redmond was castigated for setting a precedent for landlords to follow. Even though the estate was eventually sold at a lower price, allegations that Redmond had extracted an excessive price from his own tenants and doubts about his trustworthiness as a tenant representative were slow to disappear. Against this backdrop, this article offers a fresh perspective on John Redmond's political career, post-1900.

Histories of the late Victorian working-class family focus overwhelmingly on mothers. When men feature in family dynamics, it is within the context of their obligation to provide. Despite the familiarity of this model of family life, it is problematic, not least because it is partial. Written from a women's history perspective, such analyses have inevitably, and understandably, focused on the ‘dark side’ of breadwinning and privileged women's experiences as wives and mothers. Further, they have tended to make husbands synonymous with fathers. Drawing on working-class autobiography, this article revisits the cliché of the ‘good provider’ to suggest that children could invest the normative paternal obligation to provide with intimate and individual meaning, reimagining breadwinning as an act of devotion that distinguished particular father–child relationships within a context of more general working-class values. It does not suggest that women were not oppressed by the breadwinner ideal, or that attachment to mothers and fathers was the same. Rather, it calls for recognition of the fluidity of a sexual division of affective labour whereby, in memory at least, fathers' obligation to provide could be deeply embedded within an understanding of the emotional dynamics of everyday life.

Before 1914, a more intimate relationship started to develop between overseas commercial activity and foreign policy. This occurred as a consequence of the politicization of international business relations that came about when other great powers began increasingly to challenge Britain's global commercial, political, and imperial supremacy. Britain had traditionally followed a laissez-faire line when it came to supporting or protecting British overseas business enterprise. In the mid-1880s, Britain was compelled to review its policy. After this, the British government was prepared to offer limited assistance to British firms, but this often took place only in regions which were significant in terms of overall policy interest, including Turkey, Iran, and China. This article examines British commercial diplomacy in the Balkans, a region which has not received much attention from historians in this framework. British commercial diplomacy there followed the general line of limited intervention and support was offered mostly on legal grounds. Local political troubles and great power politics also played a role in diplomatic decision-making as did negative cultural perceptions, but to a considerably lesser degree. In most cases, the British government refrained from supporting British business enterprise in the Balkans on account of fears about financial speculation.

The dominant memory of the Paris Commune has been of disproportionate violence wreaked on the Communards by a brutal government. However, accounts of the extent of the bloodshed rest on flimsy foundations. A range of archival evidence suggests that the death toll has been greatly exaggerated, and a revised estimate is here proposed. How and why the number of deaths became crucial to the history of the Commune from an early date is explored. If the killing was in reality on a far less apocalyptic scale, how does this affect the narrative of nineteenth-century French politics and its ‘memory’?

This article argues that, in order properly to understand the process by which the attitude of the educated towards magical beliefs became prevalently sceptical between the mid- seventeenth and the mid-eighteenth centuries, we need to re-examine the affiliations of ‘sadducism’ and its role in relation to orthodox thought. In late seventeenth- and early eighteenth-century England, articulate scepticism about witchcraft and related phenomena seems to have become widespread in free-thinking circles, especially in London and predominantly in oral form. Because of the taint of irreligion with which such attitudes were associated, orthodox thinkers were inhibited from adopting them for a generation, while a vociferous minority mounted a counter-attack. In the early decades of the eighteenth century, however, it gradually became apparent that scepticism about such phenomena was less dangerous than it had initially appeared, and the orthodox began more cautiously to advocate such views themselves.